Cold
by Depthoffaith
Summary: Lost to the dead around them Daryl abandons his guard for a single moment of something he never thought possible.


He was used to the cold steel beneath him. It was as if he had been trapped like this his whole life. He could neither breathe or hold his breathe. He was somewhere lost between struggling to live and letting go but there was no way in hell he was going to allow himself to fall apart. Not now. Not when everybody needed him.  
If he listened good enough he could hear the sounds of those dead things outside. The prison was able to keep everything out except those noises that refused to let him sleep at night.  
No one was awake. He could hear Hershel snore the way he tended to and Carl moan in his sleep which he had begun to do ever since Lori's death. He closed his eyes on the noise, stretching himself further out on the blanket beneath him. There wasn't a way for him to get comfortable, which was the case almost every night.  
Quietly he lifted himself up and moved over to the railing. He was surprised that Rick was also asleep, he was finding it harder and harder to actually rest. He wanted to do what he could to give Rick a break but the man was suffering somewhere deep down where no one could reach.  
Harshly he wiped at the sweat glistening on his forehead, the heat filling the cellblock from the Summer outside. He checked to make sure his knife was in place and glanced down at the bow lying next to him. He needed to stretch, needed to get himself moving.  
He stood up carefully, pulling his poncho over his shoulders and lifting his bow in his hands. He navigated his way quietly down the steps, slipped the keys off of Carl and made his way out of the block. He was damned grateful that lately they all had managed to sleep very deeply. He didn't want anyone to wake up, tell him he either had to stay or take somebody with him. He just needed to be on his own, that wasn't a feeling he wanted to get used to.  
He stepped outside, refusing to look at the walkers at the gate, walking around aimlessly. He looked up at the expansive sky wondering if there was some sort of holy power ready to look down on them and grant them mercy. He had never quite lived by faith before but the faith of survival was suddenly the only thing propelling him onward.  
He walked slowly, surveying the gates, making sure nothing was out of place or weak. It seemed to take quicker than he had expected it to. Rick had done a good job securing the place, giving out the orders, putting things as they should be. He had always known Rick was the man for the job, he was glad that everyone else had decided to follow behind as well.  
The need for sleep pierced through his thoughts. His eyes felt heavy and several yawns had already passed through his lips. If he kept doing this by weeks end he would be exhausted. Pulling his bow from off his back and holding it at the ready he re-entered the prison, the cold walls closing in around him with darkness.  
He was only several feet from the cellblock when he heard a noise. A scratching noise, a throaty wail it seemed. He knew what it was and the thought weighed down inside of him. He might be used to all this killing, to the blood and violence but he sure as hell didn't like it.  
He walked away from the direction of the cellblock and made his way towards the sound. Lifting his flashlight he looked around, his eyes searching out the area thoroughly. The sound had faded, he seemed like he was alone. But it started up again and he turned at the sound. He looked ahead of him, behind, around. Nothing. Finally he glanced down, the beam from the light giving him the image he had been looking for.  
She was on the floor, clawing her way forward. Her gray dress was tattered, her hair a smeared mess behind her. She was wounded, the bite in her leg having taken off enough flesh to reveal bone. The smell rose up violently and he covered his mouth with a gasp. She craned her neck towards where he was and she let out a cry.  
"Help me…" She whispered.  
He looked back down at the wound in her leg. He knew what he was supposed to do. One arrow through the head and it would all be over, easier for her. But instead he slowly knelt down and inched his way to her.  
"Who are you?" He asked, his voice somehow foreign to himself.  
She was struggling to breathe, the pain inflicting serious torture on her. "I saw an opening." Her voice was more of a gasp as she forced herself to roll over onto her back.  
With his flashlight he looked down into her eyes. Despite the obvious tatter done to her she was beautiful. Or had been. Her eyes quivered with tears and her lips trembled. She was looking up at him like he held somehow a cure for what was about to happen to her. He couldn't stop his heart from breaking at the thought of how helpless the situation was.  
"Can you help me?" She gritted out, her hand reaching up for his arm. The blood on her fingers slick against the sweat clinging to his skin.  
"I don't think I can." He replied softly. He knew it would be easier if he just ended this now, much easier than sitting here watching her die away. He had done this before. Dale flashed before his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut on the memory.  
"Please…." Her heart shattered in her words, her grip got tighter on his arm.  
He cursed at himself under his breath as he stood up and gently cradled her in his arms. Her head fell against his chest and her arms weakly clung around him. He could feel the struggled rise and fall of her chest as she tried to just hang on. She was light, delicate in his arms and he had to correct himself before he allowed himself possibilities of saving her. There just wasn't any other way. He knew that he couldn't bring her back to the cellblock. He told himself that this was his problem, they didn't need to see another death but he knew that if he brought her there they would only put a bullet in her head. Why hadn't he?  
The sign for the boiler room came into view and quietly he pushed it open, letting it close behind him. He glanced around knowing inside that this was the room where Lori had died. He didn't want to think of that. There was more than just death in this room, there was also life. He wanted to smile at the thought of that baby that was sleeping somewhere in the cellblock. Miracles could happen in even the deadliest of times.  
Gently he laid her down on the cold ground. She let out a hissed cry and tried to reach the leg where her pain stemmed from but he settled her into a better position before she could. He pulled off his poncho and carefully wrapped it around the leg. The feeling the bone against his hand twisted in his stomach but he continued before sitting back against the wall. Her eyes were fluttering and whispered cries escaped her lips. Blood was smeared all over her skin, her hair clung wet to the ground. It would have been better if he had just ended it here, let her lose her life to spare her the torment of turning into those dead things but something inside refused to let him do it.  
After a moment she turned her head to him, her eyes catching his in the dark. Her breath was labored and her body seemed almost paralyzed in its state.  
"Are you alone?" She asked in between her struggled breaths.  
He merely shook his head, the blue of his eyes filling with the emotions building up inside of him. He was afraid suddenly and he hated it. Just looking at her reminded him of everything he had tried to put behind him. Over the Winter, back at the farm. Sophia, Andrea, Dale, Amy….it all came back to him and flashed before his eyes. He looked down, pushing at his hair that fell damp on his forehead.  
"Does that mean I'll be alright?" She coarsely whispered. If it weren't for the violent and decaying wounds eating away at her she would have been beautiful.  
Heavily he sighed and went to her on his knees. He glanced down at her leg and then back into her eyes. "You're gonna die." He said simply, hating the way it affected her. "I'm sorry." He made to move away but her hand gently touched to his arm, he almost flinched but didn't want to startle her and so he stayed where he was.  
"You won't leave me alone then?" She wasn't merely asking him, it was a plea that came with her words.  
He thought of what would happen if they all woke up and he wasn't there. He thought of what could happen if she turned and he was left unprotected. That didn't seem likely however. Truth was he didn't want to leave her alone. She was alive, much like he was. She was struggling to just hold on much like they all were.  
"I ain't leaving." he replied, assuring her gently.  
A whisper of a smile caressed across her face and her eyes slid shut. Her soft hand still held onto his arm. He looked down at her hand there, resting sweetly against his skin. She had fallen into a sleep, a struggled and pained one no doubt. It would surprise him if she ever woke up again.  
Gently he reached down, took her hand off his arm but before he could set it down she lightly squeezed his with her fingers and as much strength as she could muster. He felt a shock course through him, felt it well up inside of him. Her eyes opened, tears filling them and her lips began to tremble.  
"It was my wedding day." She whispered, her eyes holding his but faraway in thought. "When the outbreak happened….I was supposed to head to the church." She ran her tongue across her dry lips and for a moment tensed as another pain shot through her. "But now that will never happen."  
He just sat there and listened, her words strangely comforting to him. Everyone had felt the same kind of suffering as he had. The endless echo of sorrow he couldn't escape from.  
"What about you?"  
He blinked at the wordlessness and looked down at her with regained focus. "I wasn't doing nothing…just the usual. As always." It came back to him, Merle yelling at him to get out of bed and go make something to eat. They had gone hunting just the day before and yet he had wanted something different. Had there been anything in his past worth thinking of? Had he ever been in a better place than he was now strangely enough?  
She nodded with acceptance, somehow sensing that he didn't want to talk about any of it. "What's your name?"  
He swallowed harshly, knowing that getting personal was perhaps the worst thing he could do at the moment but it slipped from his lips anyways. "Daryl."  
"Anna."  
"I knew an Anna once." He said, a breath of a smile creeping its way onto his face.  
"Yeah?"  
"Yeah….She was beautiful." He thought of her face which seemed entirely blurry now. But he could remember just how beautiful she was and just how nervous he was just to walk by her. He looked down at this Anna and found himself seeing similarities there. "Don't matter now though."  
"Guess not." She whispered. "Do I look like her?" She forced out, her words becoming more labored and her breath becoming more ragged. She was getting weaker by the minute, her will to live slowly collapsing.  
Another restrained smile made its way onto his lips. "A little, I guess."  
She managed a smile and let her fingers tap softly at his arms. "Come here…"  
His brows furrowed. "Why?"  
She didn't answer though, her fingers just continued their tapping. Hesitantly he lowered himself closer to her, the smell of death getting stronger in the room. Her arm reached up, locking itself around his neck and she slightly lifted her head. His breath all but stopped when her lips pressed softly to the skin near his mouth. he froze beneath the kiss. He wasn't sure how to react or if he even should have but before he could do a thing he felt her head drop back down onto the ground. He backed up a little and saw that her chest no longer moved, her breath no longer came out. He swallowed harshly and rose to his feet. Taking his crossbow into his grip he aimed it down at her but everything inside of him tightened, paralyzing him, making him unable to do something that was almost as natural to him as breathing was. He couldn't do it, not yet.  
Before he changed his mind he rushed out of the room, chaining the door as securely as he could. As he rushed back to the cellblock he kept his mind off of her, off of Anna. Morning had come up and he knew that everyone would be rising.  
"Anyone need to make a run?" He asked once he slipped inside, tossing the keys to a sleepy Carl. He desperately needed the time away to think things straight, to get himself back in order.  
"That would be smart." Maggie said, glancing towards Rick for approval.  
"If you are all up to it, I don't see the harm. Just be safe." Rick replied, with a nod. He was holding his baby gently against his chest. One of the rare moments he showed a softness to his character now.  
As Maggie began gathering her things for the run Daryl went up onto the perch and got his own things as well.  
"Are you sure you're up to it?" Carol asked after climbing the stairs. She was looking up at him worriedly.  
"Why wouldn't I be?"  
"You didn't sleep last night."  
"I'm fine." He replied as gently as he could before walking past her and down the stairs.  
Maggie got onto the back of his bike, wrapped her arms around him before they were off. The trip went by quicker than he had anticipated. Both of them on guard so much that he barely had time to sort through everything. Once they got back Carol was waiting for them. She was in a panic it seemed.  
"What's the matter?" he demanded, sensing something horrible was going on.  
"Carl's gone." She said, tugging at him to follow after her.  
The three of them rushed back into the prison, mapped out plans, made out groups. Rick was already gone, scouring the areas on the otherside of the gate. Daryl went his own way, a terrible feeling crawling up inside him. He looked in the usual places he would find a kid like Carl but when he didn't see him his search led him back to the boiler room.  
The lock had been unlocked and the door was halfway ajar. He could hear the grunts of a struggle inside and the violent snarls of the dead. He swallowed harshly, raised his bow and broke in.  
Carl was on the ground struggling with a walker, his strength faltering. Daryl noticed that it was Anna, beautiful Anna now disgustingly deformed by her death. He knew what he had to, the pain of it, the inevitable end he was trying to avoid.  
He pressed his finger on the trigger, sucked in a heavy breath and released. The arrow flew straight into Anna's head causing her to fall off of Carl. He laid there a moment, heaving with exhaustion. Slowly he sat up and looked up at Daryl.  
"I almost had her." Carl stated, standing up with a bit of a smile to mask the obvious fear he was hiding.  
"Go on back, everyone's looking for you."  
Carl nodded and rushed out. Daryl slowly approached the corpse laying there on the ground. He leant down, pulling the arrow out of her head before turning away at the sight. He felt like breaking down, vomiting, destroying everything but he knew he had been a fool. Going down on his knees beside the body, he carefully lifted her up in his arms. He felt emotion dance in his eyes before he heard the door slam open. He tried to get away from the body quick enough but Rick had already come in with everyone else following behind him.  
They all looked down at him with confusion, trying to make sense of the picture they were seeing. He didn't meet their eyes, he just turned away. What a damn idiot. How the hell was he going to explain this? And could they ever forgive him? He had put perhaps all their lives in danger, he had put himself in danger. It was betrayal. But how could he have helped it?


End file.
